No Need To Argue
by Protector of Meladon
Summary: Jack speaks with eloquence. Anne speaks with violence. Gibbs speaks with a little persuasion. A tale about double crossing, double negatives, double takes and perhaps a little adventure along the way.
1. A Queen With No Throne

**Author's Note:** I know that there are other Anne Bonny fics probably out here, but I stumbled across her existence when I was looking for a pattern for a pirate costume. I have been dying to write this ever since. I really look forward to some hopefully positive feedback to this, as this is my first serious _Pirates_ fic that involes no lovey-dovey, mushy...er...love. I hope you won't consider Anne to be a Mary Sue. She is a real historical figure, known for her relations with Calico Jack and also her raw bravery and combat skills. If there is some aspect of her that I have taken a creative liberty on, then I will alert you before the chapter begins, but otherwise most everything about her is fact. The timing may not be perfect, but it is set after the movie, and contains a little bit of Will and Lizzie too! Perhaps some Norrington, if I'm up to it.

**Disclaimer:** Jeez. I own nothing. Except Anne's crew. I own them. Yessssss...

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**No Need to Argue**

**Chapter One: A Queen With No Throne**

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Anne Bonny had no swagger, though she walked like a man. Her russet hair was tangled, knotted and partially dredlocked. Gold dangled from her ears and from her throat hung a necklace of rubies that blazed blood red in the sunlight. From her swinging wrists, the sounds of her braclets of motley beads, jewels and bones clattering together could be heard. Her worn leather boots thumped steadily on the gleaming wood beneath her feet as she prowled the length of her new ship. She called it the _Golden Gibbet_. She thought fondly of her husband, and how she had watched his bones rattle in the wind, as he and the gibbet he was confined in swayed back and forth in the docks of Coral Harbor in Nassau.

She nodded to the night watchman on her ship and processed down the gangplank to the smoking, bustling city with the worst stench of death and rum ever: Tortuga.

With her first mate adopting a similar gait as hers, she inhaled deeply.

"Spades, I smell whores," she said with a smirk to her first mate, Spades McCoy, a young man in his twenties.

"Aye, Cap'n Anne. I smell 'em too."

Whilst walking to the bar, Spades had women throwing themselves at his feet. He kicked them all away as politely as he could, turning his chin up to avoid any eye contact. Whether the numbers were evidence of too much alcohol consumption or whether they were a testament to Spades' alluring features, Anne didn't care to guess. She'd have her share of Spades McCoy tonight, regardless of whatever strumpet he chose to shack up with for an hour.

The two entered the bar without fanfare, and sat down at a booth. Anne kicked her feet up and scratched in-between her breasts, as her open shirt and deep v-cut vest allowed her to do so. The rubies that settled between her breasts shone blood red against the darkening bronze glow of her skin. Spades eyed them- the rubies-with a satisfied smirk. He clearly remembered how Anne had yanked them off of a dead French duchess's bony neck. He then remembered how Anne had carelessly run the duchess through with her rapier just minutes before.

Gibbs, a stout and stocky fellow made his way over to them through the noisy crowd after giving a slight nod in their general direction. He grinned a yellow-toothed grin at Spades and Anne and pulled up a chair.

"'Ello Anne. Spades. There's a shiny new ship at port. The _Golden Gibbet_. I assume it's yours Anne," Gibbs said casually.

"Then you heard about James, right?" Anne asked, sneering as she said her dead husband's name. Spades frowned and his shoulders became tense.

Gibbs nodded and waved his hand at the waitress, demanding three mugs of rum. On him. He made sure that the two new arrivals could see every bit of his "discreet" monetary transaction.

"Gibbs you dog, how'd you come by all this money?" Spades asked, diverting the conversation.

"Been sailing with Jack Sparrow, lad," Gibbs replied pointedtly, raising his voice unnecessarily when he mentioned Jack Sparrow.

Anne shook her head. "Jack Sparrow?" she snorted, smiling a crooked sort of half smile. She took a swig of rum and wiped her mouth off with the back of her hand.

"Aye, the King of the Caribbean himself," Gibbs nodded, waving his pouch of monies in front of Anne's narrowed eyes, whilst she toyed idly with the dagger at her side.

"King? Him? He's a deserter and a child."

"He's thirty-two, Anne. He's exactly one year older than you." Spades pointed out.

Anne pointed her dagger at Spades. "Watch it, Spades."

"Aye, ma'am."

Anne turned back to Gibbs and frowned. Last she'd heard of Sparrow he'd been on some hair-brained adventure involving Cortez's gold medallions. She'd seen him when he was with Barbossa, right before they embarked on their fruitless scheme. She told him what a damn idiot he was, but he was drunk, so all he did was make a pass as her in response. He passed out before she attempted to let her knuckles shatter the bridge of his nose. Pity, really.

He would be the death of himself, he would.

"Is the idiot around, or have you finally come to your senses and left his crew?"

"Where the bloody hell would I go?" asked Gibbs indignantly.

"You could always join me," Anne pointed out, taking another swig.

"Nah, Anne I'd only join you just to get a look at the ceiling of your cabin every night," Gibbs replied, grinning roguishly.

Spades and Anne snorted at the same time. Jack, (who was on the other side of Anne in the next booth in exactly the same position and to boot, completely snockered) twitched and smiled. _Thata Gibbsey_! Jack thought, as he grinned widely and sat up woozily, brushing bread crumbs off of his trousers and preparing to make a suave (but completely innocent) entrance to propose his idea to Anne Bonny.

"What, getting sick of counting the cracks in Sparrow's ceiling?" Anne shot back, with a short bark of laughter.

Jack snarled and made his presence generally known by having a one sided pissing contest with himself. He muttered under his breath crossly and stumbled over to Anne and Gibbs. He swayed on the spot, lifting an angry finger at the two of them. He proceeded in his own mind to tell them both that no matter how effeminate Gibbs could be, only _real_ women had the privilege of staring at his cabin ceiling, and that meant that Anne_ couldn't_ since she acted like a man.

He opened his mouth to say all this, but only managed to fall face first into rubies and a pair well rounded breasts before he passed out.

Anne shot up from her seat like blistering lava from a volcano, catching Jack right across the jaw with her fist. Well, if he hadn't been truly passed out before, he certainly would be now. He crumpled to the floor just as Anne moved to bring the heel of her boot to collide with Jack's jaw again, but in that moment, Spades leapt up and caught her around the waist, jerking her unceremoniously into the seat which he had previously occupied.

Anne shot up again, eyes blazing, "Let me at the bastard!"

By now, the bar was halfway interested in what was going on in their area, but since no one was dead yet, they weren't as interested as they could have been. Anne intended on making them _riveted._

"No, Anne! Cap'n please! Just sit down," Spades hissed, catching both of her tiny wrists with one hand.

Though her wrists were in fact tiny, her punch was not effected in the least. From his spot on the floor next to Jack, Spades mulled over the possible calibers of pain he was likely to experience from all seven of her bejeweled rings that glittered on her right hand. Gibbs soon joined him, but by the looks of him, Spades figured that he wasn't able to carry on coherent thought process.

Anne was on top of the chair now, her eyes wild and furious and her jaw clenched. She had a white knuckled grip on her rapier, and wasn't about to take anyone else's passes or orders. How dare Gibbs talk her up like that? How dare Spades try to get in her way? How dare Sparrow even address her? The three men could go rot for all she cared. Except Spades. She needed a fix tonight and hopefully, she hadn't rendered him incompetent.

She scanned the bar quickly, and spotted two of her crew. She knew she had to get Spades back to the ship. However, she wasn't about to lug around her first mate, letting him bleed all over her nice shirt, letting him flounder about, slack-jawed like a dead fish. No, she'd let someone else deal with him, just in case he woke up. Besides, if Jack was here, then here was the last place that Anne wanted to be.

"Oy! Diamond-Eye and Bane Brisby!" Anne shouted across the bar, motioning to the two men who were surrounded by a couple of painted tarts. She then motioned to Spades and left the bar in a hurry... but not before relieving Gibbs of all his money.


	2. Must Be A Human

**Author's Note:** Hopefully you enjoyed the last chapter, because trust me, it's going to start getting a little more twisted. We get to glimpse a little more of Anne's true nature as she deals with Jack. Gibbs will be more prominent in the chapters to come. You'll see why. The Duke of Aubagne is a fictional character. Both of Anne's ships are fitional as well. Er...the only other thing I can think to mention is Anne's rubies are a little more important than what they seem...

**Disclaimer: **See last chapter.

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******No Need To Argue **

******Chapter Two: Must Be A Human**

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"What the bloody hell is Jack Sparrow and his lady friend doing on my ship?" Anne roared at Diamond-Eye Dave and Bane Brisby, her most trusted crewmen aside from Spades.

When she had risen this morning, she hadn't counted on waking up to these two eyesores.

"You motioned to them..." Diamond Eye trailed off, eying the drunken and bruised Jack Sparrow. Gibbs was still out cold. Whether or not he really was, or if he was faking it to spare himself from a worse fate, Diamond-Eye didn't know.

"Yes I know, but I only wanted Spades! I didn't want these two messes!"

"You're talking about us as if we're not here, love," Jack mumbled from where he lay in a heap near the anchor. Gibbs remained motionless.

"I wish that you weren't," Anne snapped, folding her arms across her chest.

Anne clenched her fists and set her jaw, fighting to control her anger. To resist the urge to take a swing at Bane and Diamond-Eye, she took a deep breath and took a walk around her ship. When Jack finally woke up as much as he could, he wandered around after Anne, dodging the things she threw, most of which were lethal looking and pointy. Monkey fangs were not to be messed with; Jack had learned that from his primate counterpart on his last adventure.

He followed Anne all over the ship; around the wheel, up and down the rigging, through the galley (He was surprised the operatic proportions of his growling stomach didn't shatter the china) and back up to the wheel. He was almost disappointed that she hadn't gone to her cabin, but then again, he wasn't after a great shag. Well, not yet anyway.

"Look, Captain Anne…might I have a word with you?"

Anne turned around on her heel and caught him across the other side of the jaw.

"Speak."

Jack paused. He wasn't sure that he could. His jaw was one huge, bruised mess. He gingerly touched the tip of his fingers to the swelling and grumbled at the discomfort. He looked at Anne, who looked like her feathers had been ruffled, singed, and tweaked. Her nostrils were flaring and her eyes were locked on him, making him feeling slightly awkward. He wasn't sure that she'd take him seriously if he was looking the way he did at this moment: mouth half opened out of pain and the need to say several very important things, eyes looking up curiously at the man in the crow's nest and eyebrows knitted together so firmly they could be one and the same.

Where did he begin with the mess he'd gotten himself into?

**An hour later...**

"So that's when I told the guardsmen about being made Chief of a tribe…"

"_Fascinating_," Anne deadpanned.

Jack's face fell.

"Do you mind telling me _why_ you need my assistance, or would you just like to have a nice chat with some chap's bones in the brig?"

"I need to see a Frenchman about a Frenchwoman."

"Forget it, Sparrow. That's not reason enough," Anne snarled, getting up from where she sat on a barrel of rum.

Jack sprang up off his barrel and chased after her.

"Anne this is about the Duke of Aubagne!"

Anne stopped mid stride and turned around slowly, eyeing him warily. The Duke of Aubagne was a very old and very despised acquaintance of Anne's. She'd killed his wife a few years back, and gotten a lovely set of rubies off of her. Anne looked down in-between her breasts and smiled. She thought the stones suited her better anyway.

"What about him?" Anne drawled, examining the rubies.

"His daughter Marie has gone missing, much thanks to a poker game I lost. He's got my Pearl until I find his daughter. They're wrecking it slowly but surely until I bring her back. Alive. If she's not alive, they burn my Pearl."

"So I've got to nanny you while you run after some thirteen year old brat? Cripes, you're out of your mind Sparrow. Take a lesson from this all, let the girl and your blasted ship rot and never play poker for the rest of your life."

"Anne, _it's - my - Pearl_ we're talking about!" Jack protested, stamping his foot on the deck petulantly whilst emphasizing that specific point of the argument. He'd have poked out his bottom lip to pout, but he was now stuck in a perpetual pout due to the swelling. As it was, Jack really wanted to pout out of his own free will.

"Damn that ship to the Locker, Sparrow. I've had enough of you. Diamond-Eye: take Sparrow to the brig."

Jack made for his pistol in his belt. He wasn't above all out rebellion, or even shooting Anne's crew to get what he needed. He would be damned if he let his precious Pearl burn. Not while all his crew were being held hostage as well. Not while their lives hung in the balance of his mistakes.

"Anne-" Jack started, looking dead at Diamond-Eye, who was staring straight down the barrel of Jack's pistol with a steely gaze.

"Jack?" Anne smirked, pointing her pistol directly at Jack's temple.

Jack turned and stared straight down the barrel of Anne's pistol. Bane Brisby was closing in with his cutlass, while the rest of the crew went about their daily chores. Jack twitched his nose and cocked his pistol, pointing it then at Spades who had just come up from below deck.

"How about a little negotiation, savvy?" Jack grinned, thinking he had the upper hand.

In the dead silence that hung in the air, Anne rolled her eyes and stepped briefly to the side to look at who Jack was about to kill. Spotting Spades, she did some quick calculations in her head. All of them not involving Jack's life. She huffed impatiently and pulled her trigger.

And shot Spades in the leg.

Jack's arm that held his pistol drooped down temporarily as he gaped at the blood spilling out of Spades' leg. Spades' face contorted in agony as he let out an anguished cry, staggering backwards and then crumpling into a heap as he clutched at his leg. That was the last thing Jack saw before Anne cracked him over the back of his head with the handle of her pistol.

"Damnit," she snapped, rushing over to Spades.

"Needs must, eh, Anne?" Spades grimaced at the searing pain in his leg, sweating profusely and breathing unsteadily.

"Shut up, McCoy. Someone fetch Mads Malloy, and quickly! Someone else take that bastard and his lady friend down to the brig and leave them there." Bane Brisby gave a shout of acknowledgement and rushed below deck as Diamond-Eye Dave spun around and moved towards the anchor, where Gibbs was conveniently waking up and burshing himself off groggily.

Mads Malloy, a young Swedish lad, was the crew's surgeon. His dealings with Anne were rather curious. Anne had found him nearly beaten to death in Jamaica and on a whim, fixed him up at a surgeon's there in town. She left him there and made to set sail, and she did, leaving the lad in Jamaica where hopefully he'd survive. Two years later when she returned to the town, she stopped by the surgeon's place and inquired after him. She didn't see the boy while she was there, but the surgeon remembered Anne's violent insistence that he take the boy in, and the generous monetary compensation he recieved for doing so. He gladly told her that he was still alive, and then he promptly shooed her out.

Two days after she set sail away from the town again she found him in the galley of her old ship, The _Red Sunrise_. He was sleeping in the china cabinet. He spoke what English he knew to her, and they struck an accord there. She offered her protection in exchange for his medical services. He told her that protection wasn't necessary, and that he only wanted to prove to her his gratitude, but Anne hated overtly noble acts and instead struck the accord.

No one could pronounce his surname, so Anne named him after the brand of rum he used in his surgical practices. Malloy's Maple Rum. Thus, Mads Malloy.

Mads came sprinting up from below deck, hot on Bane's heels and once he viewed the damage, he shook his white-blonde head at Anne and went below deck with two of the crew and Spades, who was looking whiter and whiter by the minute. Anne turned back to face Diamond-Eye and cuffed him on the back, smiling somewhat nervously as she looked down at where Gibbs was sitting politely by his feet. As she smiled, she gritted her teeth, incapable of forcing any real poems of praise and thanks through her lips. He and Bane Brisby took Gibbs and Jack below deck as Anne went to the crow's nest to think.

She politely coerced the watchman to leave so she could have some peace and quiet. As he made his way down, she picked up his telescope and ran her fingers along the bronze surface. She peered into it and lookeddead at the horizon, with the noontime sun glowering overhead as she breathed in the light breeze that trickled by. She took the telescope away from her eye and let out a deep sigh. Leaning over the side of the crow's nest, her green eyes squinted as she gazed down at the deck, where her faithful crew were playing cards and dancing to Bane's tune on the fiddle.

Turning away, her heart thumped heavily against her chest when she thought of Spades and what she had done. She didn't regret her actions, just the possible consequences of them. She bit her bottom lip. It wasn't her nature anymore to love men, but she did care for Spades a lot, and in a way that she had never cared for James Bonny her former husband or Calico Jack her former lover.

Calico Jack. Jack. Jack Sparrow. Jack. Both egotistical pirates, and both out to ruin her. She closed her eyes and slammed her elbow back against the wall of the crow's nest and growled deeply. She slid down the wooden surface, her shirt catching briefly in some spots (due to the rough and splintering wood) and sat with her knees brought up to her chest and her forehead resting atop.

She couldn't think of anything to do. She didn't want Jack Sparrow's rotting flesh to create an acrid stench about her ship, but she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of being dropped off in some obscure port. No, she'd save that remedy for Gibbs. No matter how much she hated him for chatting her up yesterday, she didn't quite hate him enough to let him die. After all, they had been friends once a long time ago.

It's was Jack's own fault for getting into another mess. Although how he managed to lose someone else's child in a poker game, she didn't understand. She didn't want to. Jack would have to remedy his own mistakes. After all, the only thing she'd heard about him was stories, and the only time she'd attempted to speak civilly to him was today. The other times he'd just made passes at her. She didn't care to tote around a strange pirate on some halfed-baked adventure.

She got up and peered into the telescope once again. A black spot on the horizon wavered in and out of view, in accordance with the sun's heavy rays beating down from the sky. She grinned roguishly and came down from the crows nest, feeling just a little bit better for the time being.

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	3. Jilted Jailbird

**Author's Note:** Well, not as many people are as interested as I'd hoped. But alas, I shall still write! Because I really love this story with my whole heart. After seeing _Dead Man's Chest_, this story is comepletely improbable. But maybe only a little more so than it was to begin with...heh. Just kidding. Anyway, the second Pirates! film I thought was REALLY long. I mean almost to the point of it being TOO long. Nonetheless, I saw it with _Pyro Symptoms Unleashed _( Go read her stories if you're an HP Ginny/Draco or Ginny/Boy!Blaise shipper. NOW.) and it was worth the 2 and a half hours we spent laughing our butts off. But, right on to a few little notes I've got for this chapter. I mention a ship that Anne previously owned, called The Red Sunrise. This is a work of fiction, as I have no clue as to what any of the names were of the ships she sailed on. However, the snippet in here that mentions her childhood- all true. I'll expound on it more in the coming chapters, don't worry!

Also, thank you to **mr. rain cloud rolling in** for leaving such extensive and inspirational reviews! Very encouraging!

** Disclaimer: **I really shouldn't have to do this...see previous chapters...

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**No Need to Argue **

**Chapter Three: Jilted Jailbird**

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Jack had been slapped, kicked, punched, pinched, walked out on, walked in on, screamed at, laughed at, kissed, felt up, dressed up, and eyed flirtatiously by a woman before.

_But he had never been marooned by one…_

Jack grumbled and kicked at the sand and stomped around like a five year old child. He shouted curses to the sky and beat his chest and let out an animal cry of agony. All in all, the effect was pretty dramatic, but he had no immediate audience other than a cockatiel that was peering at him curiously.

He frisked himself hurriedly, searching for his one luxury he was certain to have on this wretched island: a pistol with one shot.

From their convenient perch in the rigging of the sails on the _Golden Gibbet_, Anne and Diamond Eye-Dave took turns looking into the telescope to get a front row seat to Jack's current misfortune.

"I think he's finally realized that it's not his pistol," Anne remarked casually, examining the pistol that belonged to Jack while Diamond-Eye smirked as he peered through the telescope.

"I'd say," Diamond Eye replied.

Anne heard distinct creaking below her, and looked down, spying Gibbs shuffling around nervously. "Oy, Gibbs! What're you doing down there?" she shouted, waving down at him. He looked up imploringly and motioned for her to come down. She rolled her eyes and huffed, muttering 'Enjoy,' to Diamond-Eye Dave and wandering down the rigging.

"Losing your sea legs there Gibbs, or do you got something t' say?" Anne drawled, crossing her arms in front of her chest and strolling over to where Gibbs was still shuffling around nervously.

"We have to go back for Jack, Anne. Before it's too late."

"Like hell I'm going back for Sparrow. You want him so bad, you go an' swim an' get him yourself," Anne snapped, making her way back up the rigging.

"Anne, wait! Have a drink, eh? A drink…"Gibbs trailed off, knowing he'd caught Anne's mild and grudging interest.

"Alright, you mangy dog, I'll have a drink with you," Anne sighed, coming back down the rigging for the second time. She landed on the deck with a heavy thump of her leather boots, and led Gibbs with a sarcastic flourish down to the galley.

She lit the candelabras on the table to afford them some more light, and she called for Simon, the ship's cook, to bring them some drinks. Simon came out of the kitchen moments later with tall mugs in hands, the substance sloshing and the froth spilling over the rim of the mug. Simon gave an apologetic look to Anne when he accidentally spilled half of her drink into her lap. She shook her head and waved him away, kicking her feet up onto the table as she did.

"Simon still hasn't gotten his sea legs," Anne said by way of explanation, mopping up her abdomen and thighs with the handkerchief she kept in the left pocket of her breeches. "Now, why in the world should I be having to go back after Sparrow?"

"Jack's into a spot of trouble. He told you about the Duke of Aubagne, eh?"

"Aye," Anne said slowly, with a hint of patronization laced in. She picked up her mug and revolved her wrist in slow swirling motions, looking at the contents of her drink as they moved in time with her wrist.

"And undoubtedly he told you about his Pearl," Gibbs continued, looking around the galley, and consequently anywhere but Anne.

"Yes," she replied in the same tone as before, beginning to loose her patience.

"But I know the part he didn't let you in on, and I'll tell you why-"

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Jack was drawing circles in the sand, waiting for the Golden Gibbet to turn around and rescue him from his insane boredom and strange urges to hunt down a cockatiel and pluck it starkers. He knew that Gibbs was going to tell Anne everything. Everything including the minute details that she could certainly suffer without. That prospect soured Jack's expression as he continually drew obscure circular shapes in the sand.

First, Gibbs would tell Anne that his crew was hostage as well as his ship, and that they would suffer just like the Black Pearl until the Duke's beloved twit of a daughter was returned safely. Then, he would tell her about the great bungle Jack had gotten himself into with the poker game, in which he had bet more money than he had had on him.

In effect, he had planned to kidnap and ransom the Duke's daughter with the help of his mates whom he was playing the match with. Unfortunately, they rather back stabbed him, and kidnapped the little girl before Jack could, leaving him and his crew at the mercy of the French Navy. As if he wasn't already embarrassed at his first loss, he was certainly even more so humiliated at being at the mercy of the French Navy. He'd have much preferred the British Navy. Norrington may be an utter ponce, but at least he was a challenge.

The Duke told him that he and one of his crew could go in search of his daughter. In hindsight, he probably should've taken Anna Maria instead of Gibbs. He could have at least had a decent shag or two by now. Not that he'd been shagging Gibbs in the meantime. How dare Anne suggest that?

Then of course, he knew Gibbs would mention the handsome reward that the Duke was offering. This would undoubtedly spark Anne's extreme interest. The real temptation would come with the fact that the Duke was also rebuilding the plantation that Anne had lived at during her childhood. The plantation was in Charleston, South Carolina, and it was rumored that Anne burned it to the ground after being disowned by her father for reasons that Jack didn't know. And didn't want to.

Anne would definitely leap at the chance to murder the Duke, also, due to whatever unfinished business she had with him. After all, she'd murdered his wife, too. Jack thought that the Duchess' passing was indeed, a favor to the world, but that still left him uneasy. Besides, what in the world could possibly prompt her to murder the Duchess in the first place? Jack felt even more miserable at the possibility that Anne did the deed on a whim. This didn't bode well for him at all. More to the point, (which really left Jack nauseous) Anne killed without thought. It seemed that she typically favored violence to words, and so far, she'd displayed a kind of intense dislike for Jack and Gibbs. Well, Gibbs wasn't here on the island with him, so she must have either dropped him on another island, or she hadn't dropped the bugger at all. The latter seemed more likely.

It wasn't as if her thoughtlessness bothered him in the least. Because it didn't. Well... mabye just a _little_ bit. But were her rash actions and her unccanny knack for shooting her own crew really going to be an asset to him at this point? Not in the least. Jack knew now that he'd picked the wrong pair of breasts to fall into. He peered at his sand drawings and scowled. There was no way of getting out of this, not since Gibbs had spilled the beans.

Frowning, Jack suddenly remembered that it was Gibbs' idea in the first place to approach Anne. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that Gibbs had always spoken of Anne as if he had known her somewhere before. "_Bastard_," Jack groused under his breath. He crossed his arms in front of his chest. He had thought Anne to be just convenient. Someone that perhaps Gibbs had just known in his early pirate days. He hadn't thought that Gibbs and Anne were old friends. He didn't think it possible for Anne to have any friends at all. She was a right pain in the arse, and a murderess to top it all off.

Jack sat in wait. He knew Anne would come back. The opportunity to double cross him and collect the ransom and kill the Duke would prove to be irresistible. Besides, she'd sailed under Calico Jack Rackham. And from what Jack had heard, she'd spent a lot of time just… _under_ him. He was known to have a double crossing streak, and it's no doubt that Anne would have picked it up, no matter how much she may hate him now.

Jack knew very little about Calico Jack and Anne's relationship with each other, but he'd be damned if he hadn't heard a thousand stories a thousand times over. Each one of them proved more absurd than the rest.

He looked up, and spotted a rowboat in the distance. Gibbs and that fellow he'd tried to shoot were in it, approaching him quickly. He stood on his feet and brushed the sand off his pants. Anne stood proudly at the bow of the _Golden Gibbet,_ and Jack knew that if he could see her face more clearly, then she would be smirking a devilish smirk. He squared his shoulders as Gibbs came sloshing ashore, and he began to think furiously of ways to keep Anne from inadvertently killing his crew and burning his ship. No doubt that if she got her way, both of those catastrophes would occur, and to boot, she wouldn't give a damn.

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	4. The Monster Within

Author's Note: I'm back. After a long seemingly-dead silence. My passion has been sparked, and it's nothing but adventure from here on out. I hope you'll stay with me and enjoy it.

Disclaimer: See previous chapter.

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**No Need To Argue**

**Chapter Four: The Monster Within**

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. 

Anne paced around in her quarters, with an empty bottle of wine in hand. She'd just let Gibbs go ashore for that bugger she'd dropped on the island, and she was half boiling with rage at the news he'd given her.

She paced around her cabin irately, her chest heaving as she tried to steady her fury. Alas, she had never been particularly good at it, so she threw the bottle of wine at the wall and let out an animal roar, knocking her chess table against her bookcase afterwards. Books teetered and dropped from their shelves with several dusty thumps as Anne wrenched open the door of her cabin, nearly running over Bane Brisby whilst he was whistling on his way up to the deck.

Anne hastened down the hall to Spade's room. She paced like a caged tiger in front of the door, growling deeply under her breath as she fought with herself. She wanted to check on Spades, to make sure he'd live. But if he wasn't going to live, she wasn't sure that Mads Malloy would either. A fiery sensation boiled in the pit of her stomach as she slammed her two fists onto both sides of the doorframe and let out another animal roar. She hissed and stomped up to the deck, snarling to herself as her jewelry tinkled and clattered.

As a child, she been doted on by her father, and allowed to do as she pleased. She wasn't wild, but she wasn't tame. She was free. She'd always been free and always would be. Anne wasn't shy to death either. She'd started a murderous streak as a young teen, and since she was so doted upon, no one in her father's society ever knew about it. Looters and thieves was the terrible fate of Anne personal maid, Rebecca. They'd gotten into a spat, and Anne killed her. Anne mustered up a little half-smile at the thought. Rebecca was perhaps the only person Anne mildly regretted killing. As far as the Duchess, and two crew members on Calico Jack's ship, they could rot. But, she'd been provoked after all…

A snap of the fingers was all it took to illustrate that. A snap, that's all it took to push her over the edge to violence.

"_And now Gibbs tells me all this?_" she muttered to herself, earning a wary look from Bane Brisby, who took to the wheel and began his shift there.She moved hastily to the bow of the ship, shouting to the watchman in the crow's nest to throw down his telescope to her. She watched Gibbs as he rowed out with Diamond-Eye Dave, mulling over what he'd just told her.

Anne had once considered Jack base, animalistic and incompetent. He was now all of that as well as completely daft. He'd managed to loose his crew as well as his ship in a bloody poker game. Not to mention a little thirteen year old girl. Anne rolled her eyes and let the telescope away from her eye.

The Duke had to die. There was absolutely no question about that in Anne's mind. She knew it had to happen, or she wouldn't be able to live with herself. Did this man know no good sense? The bastard was rebuilding the plantation that she'd spent her childhood trying to get away from. She'd reduced to ashes for a reason. She hated it. She hated the people who lived there. _He had no right whatsoever… _

Anne sucked in a huge breath and tried to calm herself. She tightened her white knuckle grip on the telescope. The Duke was an idiot. He wasn't even offering a reward. Jack was an idiot. His ship wasn't worth shite, but still, he was willing to get it back with no monetary compensation. _Daft bollocks, the both of them. _

What was it that the Duke hoped to accomplish? Anne had taken all the provocation she could from him and the plantation was the last straw. The very last. She turned and smirked as Jack was being hoisted up onto the deck. She knew she was going to kill the Duke. Whether or not she was going to put up with Jack was an unanswered question still.

"Right, now, love. You finally made up your pretty little mind, or are you just going to dump me ol' self off on islands until you figure it all out?" Jack asked, brushing sand off his pants. Anne glared. Jack twitched his nose. Anne smirked. Jack felt uneasy. He wasn't eager to experience any other female firsts with Anne. There were only unpleasant firsts left, now…

Shrugging, Anne went back to her cabin, leaving Diamond-Eye Dave to deal with Gibbs and Jack. She surveyed the mess she'd made, and flopped down on her bed, shrugging off her jacket. She picked up the rubies and examined each one carefully. Flawless. A bejeweled mask for it's owner.

A timid knock soundedat her door, and she let out an unfeminine grunt. Diamond-Eye Dave peeked in. "I set them up with the rest of the crew." Anne flicked her uninterested gaze over at him. "As long as they don't mutiny," she drawled, turning her attention back to the rubies.

Diamond-Eye Dave chuckled. He bent to pick up her dusy novels and placed them gingerly back on her shelf. He peered carefully at each one, occasionally flipping through the pages and creating a giant cloud of dust. Anne coughed.

"D'you ever read any of these Captain?" he asked.

Anne flushed a deep shade of scarlet. "Not in a long time. What's it to you, Dave?" she asked waspishly. He eyed her. "Ain't nothin' to me, ma'am. I just figgerd you weren't the type to read all this fancy stuff. You got other things you like to do."

"That's right," Anne snapped. She sat up impatiently and stalked over to him, shooing him out of the room. "I'll pick it up," she snarled, slamming the door. She glowered at the remaining novels, the overturned chess table, and the ruins of the wine bottle. She sighed and got down on all fours, brushing the chess pieces to one side, and the glass to the other, picking up the last three novels and placing them behind her. She sat back on her haunches and lifted the table upright, setting the chess board on top. She picked up the pieces in clumsy handfuls and dropped them on the board.

Anne picked up the big shards of glass and threw them over her shoulder. They clattered noisily as Anne dabbed at her beautiful oriental rug with her sleeve, trying to mop up what hadn't already dried and stained. She swept up the tiny pieces with her palms and carried them out of her room, tossing them over the side of the ship. She did the same with the larger pieces as well.

When she entered her room again, she scowled at her bookshelves. The truth was, she couldn't read. At least, she couldn't read _those_ books. Her father didn't much believe in educating women, and her mother was just as deprived, being a simple maid that he had an affair with. Her mother stayed home a lot, having a rough, Irish country accent and too poor a vocabulary to contend with the vicious circle of American sharks that Anne's father was a part of. She was a sweet woman, but too docile to even reprimand her own child. She died while Anne was still relatively young, so any persuasion for education on Anne's behalf was lost by the time Anne was ten. And so she became the wild child.

Her father was very much in love with her mother. After all, he'd left his first wife in Ireland for Anne's mother, taking her away to a new life in America. The two of them built the plantation that Anne grew to loathe, and seemed not to notice little Anne as she grew up. What little she knew how to read, her Calico Jack taught her. He was the only man Anne had ever trusted with her secret. Sadly, her lessons with him were usually cut short by a long romp in the sheets.

Morosely, Anne sat down at the chess table and separated the black from the white, slowly placing them in their spots. Her door eased open quietly, and Anne's head snapped up to look at the intruder. She dropped the pawns she was holding.

"Spades!" she hissed, moving toward him like lightening. He grimaced and waved weakly at her and then collapsed in her arms. Anne stared down at him in horror. What had she done to him? He was deathly pale, and shivering uncontrollably. She heaved him down the hallway and back to his room. Mads was jogging down the steps from the deck, looking utterly relieved. "You found him!"

"Don't you know where to find him?" Anne asked, lifting an eyebrow.

Mads stammered. "I- I didn't want to interrupt anything.."

"It's only pleasurable when you're conscious, Mads," Anne drawled, grinning deviously. She peeked back down at Spades and quickly sobered up. A red-faced Mads took him and laid him back down in his bed, not looking Anne in the eye. If her lover wasn't seriously incapacitated, she might have found his boyish embarrassment amusing. She offered a small smile of thanks and left the room, shuffling back to her when she caught wind of an argument. She shifted her shuffle towards the galley, where the heard the distinct growling of Gibbs, and the panicky warbling hiss of Jack Sparrow.

"What did you tell her Gibbs?!"

"Nothing more than what needed to be said, Captain!" Gibbs exclaimed, nearly rising from his seat.

Anne stole a glance around the corner of the doorway as Jack jumped up and down madly, waving his arms about, assaulting the air and whatnot, trying to motion (however elaborately) for Gibbs to lower his voice.

"How much does she know?"

"Just about your poker game, the girl, and the plantation," Gibbs grumbled.

"And what about the fantastic reward?" Jack hissed emphatically through clenched teeth.

"I didn't mention it, Jack. I thought that just the mention of the plantation alone would be enough to entice-"

Anne didn't bother to listen to the rest of the conversation. A greedy, devilish smile poisoned her features and her green eyes glittered maliciously. That was all she needed to make up her mind. Killing the Duke, possibly his daughter, and collecting a handsome sum of money was extremely rewarding. Especially since she didn't give one damn about Jack or his ship. Anne marched up on deck and bellowed for Jack and Gibbs. The pair came scrambling up moments later.

"Jack? I believed you've got yourself an adventure," Anne declared smugly, extending her palm towards the slack-jawed Jack Sparrow.

* * *


End file.
